


Beyond the Sea, Beyond the Clouds

by Vampiric_Charms



Series: Burns Most of All [29]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiric_Charms/pseuds/Vampiric_Charms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Green firecrackers, golden hairpieces given by Mairon’s hand, parties with delicious wine, and emotions Curumo thought he was doing quite well at keeping under control.  What, really, can go wrong?  A fair bit, to be honest.  (If you’re Curumo.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond the Sea, Beyond the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Naamah_Beherit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naamah_Beherit/gifts).



> This was written somewhat at the request of **Naamah_Beherit** , and by that I really just mean she egged me on with my initially vague idea that Curumo had a little crush on Mairon way back when. So this is based on that assumption, and also draws some ideas/imagery from a few previous stories (such as the rubies mentioned a few times already and a headpiece mentioned in another).
> 
> Set not terribly long before Mairon leaves with Melkor, and definitely during his seduction. Implied Mairon/Melkor in here, and some unrequited Mairon/Curumo.
> 
> Please let me know if you have any requests!
> 
> Enjoy!

Mairon did not need to turn to see the figure to know who was hesitating in the doorway behind him. 

Faltering footfalls echoed quietly through the forge, the soft brush of a palm sweeping against the smooth brick as his new companion paused to lean there in the magnificent arch. He felt timid eyes along his back and shoulders, watching his movements, and Mairon grinned down into his work, not suspending the fluid motions of his fingers as they began to secure the very last gem into the thin golden strand he held.

Finally, after only a few breaths passed into stretching silence, the stranger stepped fully into the forge and came to his side. His steps were only slightly more confident than they had been in the hall on approach, more the ghost of surety than surety itself, and Mairon raised his eyes to watch as Curumo closed the wide distance between them. He stopped on the other side of the workbench. 

“Good evening,” Mairon said softly, his lips pulling upward into an indulgent little grin. He met Curumo’s eyes, deep brown depths filled with intelligence and fluster and desire and so much misplaced anxiety in that moment, all of it spilling forth so easily. Curumo looked away first, glance darting down to the object in Mairon’s hands as Mairon continued his work uninterrupted. “What brings you down here this late? I thought you and Olórin were planning some marvelous gathering, surely it has not ended quite yet.” 

“No,” Curumo replied, and his voice was just as clear and light as it ever was. The anxiety flickered away from his eyes, and they glittered now in the firelight, bright with excitement as he met Mairon’s gaze again. “He has turned it into quite a party, really, and I came to invite you. I thought you might enjoy the newest firecrackers he has.”

“Firecrackers, you say?” Mairon repeated with genuine interest. The party itself was nothing he had any desire to attend, they both knew that very well. But _firecrackers_. 

“He has discovered a new combustible that will turn the fire green for just the briefest moment upon explosion,” Curumo went on to explain, the enthusiasm in his voice almost contagious as he painted the picture for Mairon to envision. “The fire takes on the most interesting shapes, too, little stars and flowers. Would you like to come see?”

Mairon was silent for a moment, considering the offer. So rarely was he invited to such festivities, and he could not deny the temptation was there, even if it was faint. His fingers closed gently on the handle of the pliers, ever so carefully tightening the metal prongs in place around the beautiful cut of citrine. Not exactly the rubies he had been envisioning for this particular piece, but it worked well enough. He set the tool down and pulled the strand he had just finished into his fingers, watching the gold and gems glitter in the firelight as the strand fell like beautiful liquid over his skin.

“Mairon?”

The sound of his name, whispered as it fell from lips that spoke the word like a prayer to a savior, broke through his thoughts, and he looked up again with a small smile to see the other Maia gazing at him with unnecessary concern. “Forgive me, dear Curumo,” he murmured, the metal still warm and light in his fingers. “You see so often how my work distracts me. It is no fault of yours.”

“What are you creating that distracts you so?” Curumo asked curiously, reaching without thinking and suddenly halting his searching hand just before it came halfway across the table. “It appears to be lovely, from what little I can see.”

Mairon generously held his work up to allow an inquisitive gaze to fall over it. The piece in its entirety was large, as a whole, and yet so very delicate. Numerous strands of gold and copper fell away from their attachment at an ornate golden comb, engraved with images of flowers and encrusted with polished pearls and citrine cut so they glittered. More pearls and gems of citrine were nestled into those many, many strands, ready to simply be draped over one’s hair or perhaps braided into some simple style to make the wearer sparkle more brightly than any fire.

Curumo gaped, his eyes widening in wonder at something so fine, and raised his hands again in silent permission. This time Mairon allowed him to take the piece into his grasp without hesitation. He trusted Curumo in this respect, even if he had never said as much aloud.

“How…” the other began, unsure as he moved the gold and copper through his own hands, feeling the incredible lightness of it, taking in the brilliance of color, the cut of the numerous gems. He looked up at Mairon again after another moment, thrilled. “How did you create something like this? It is exquisite!”

Mairon came around the table to stand at Curumo’s side, watching as he studied the jewelry in the brightness of the forge fires. “I suppose I just worked rather hard at taking the image I saw in my mind and - and bringing it to fruition here,” he said truthfully.

“I do not think even Master Aulë could have made something so perfect as this,” Curumo said with warm passion. He flushed and bit his lip as soon as the words were out of his mouth, as though he had said something blasphemous - and perhaps he had, neither of them were really quite sure - and Mairon smiled widely at him for the compliment, a feeling of genuine happiness welling in his chest. He was suddenly very grateful for this friendship, and he was not exactly sure why.

“I mean to say,” Curumo hastily added as the previous sentence continued to hang, “Master Aulë does not make jewelry very often, does he, and he -”

“It’s all right,” Mairon interrupted with a kind chuckle before Curumo could talk himself into a corner with no escape. “I understand what you mean. Here.” He took the comb and its strands of gold from Curumo’s gentle hands and stepped behind him. “Would you like to be the first to try it on?”

“I - no, Mairon, I couldn’t.” His flush deepened and spread down his neck under the collar of his tunic. “Surely you made this for someone else, didn’t you? It wouldn’t be right.”

“I created this for _myself_ , at my own whim,” Mairon replied, already undoing the leather strip holding back Curumo’s dark brown hair and threading the fingers of one hand through the silken strands. Curumo attempted to gaze around at him in his fluster, but Mairon stubbornly pushed his face back to the front with amused admonishment. He could feel the heat of the Maia’s blush even at his scalp, and he quickly smothered his grin. 

It was obvious to him, these remarkable and unrequited emotions Curumo harbored for him and hid not very well. He was quite sure there was a swoop in Curumo’s belly, then, a tightening in his chest, that Mairon felt himself when Melkor did very specific things - and quite on purpose - during their times together that he was coming to find more and more enthralling.

But there was something so _innocent_ about this, something so tender.

With Melkor, there was power and passion and the captivating sensation that everything was new, that everything was possible with every breath Mairon drew into his body. He was created for that sensation, just as Melkor was drawn to him for reasons so similar and different. 

This here, now, was so soft and warm. So filled with trust. He would not break the spell of it. 

Mairon slid the comb high on the back of Curumo’s head, securing it into place, and began gathering his friend’s hair into several long braids with the gold and copper strands glittering amongst his tresses. Curumo held very still under his touch, waiting patiently and without any additional argument - halfhearted though it was - as Mairon took those braids into a single one, thick and sparkling down his back. An easy task, all told.

He rested his hands on Curumo’s shoulders, delighting in the way he almost jumped when he leaned forward to whisper at his ear. “Finished. It is just as magnificent as I thought it would be.”

Curumo reached up toward the back of his head, long fingers feeling what Mairon had done, and Mairon dropped his hands and stepped away to give him enough space to recover. “I’m afraid I do not have a looking glass down here,” Mairon said softly, “but perhaps we can find one on the way up to your little party.”

The ecstatic expression that came over Curumo’s face at those words brought a smile to Mairon’s face that he truly could not help, and he did not bother trying to hide it as he started to put away the few tools still left out on the table.

“You’ll come?” Curumo asked, still seeking that last bit of validation.

Mairon nodded, sliding a drawer closed and wiping down the tabletop with a clean rag. “I’ve decided I would like to see these firecrackers after all.”

“Oh, they’re magnificent, Mairon, you’ll love them! I promise, you will not be disappointed.” He started moving toward the door, his hair sparkling and glittering now with the ornaments in place as they were. His eyes were bright with happiness, and he seemed to be a vision of ethereal cheer and beauty. “I will go get some fruit, and perhaps a few more skeins of wine. I’m not sure how many others are coming, there were only seven at last count, but Olórin was asking several more to join, as well.” 

He had turned and was making a dash for the arched doorway, listing off more things he wished to gather, when a thought came into Mairon’s head and refused to release its hold. He straightened, the cloth dropping from his hand as he watched the gold and gems glittering in firelight as Curumo left on his mission.

“Curumo.”

The other stopped quickly at the sound of his name, turning expectantly, and Mairon paused as his friend stared at him from across that empty space. So much had changed during the expanse of time they had known one another, always evolving and shifting. Curumo was unaware of any of it at all, so pleased and content as he was, and something dug at Mairon’s chest as that gaze cut right through him. But Mairon smiled warmly, the gesture reaching his eyes in a way it so rarely did now.

“I think, perhaps, you should keep the jewelry in your hair.” Mairon spoke clearly, ensuring Curumo understood what he was offering, but the other immediately shook his head. “Consider it a gift, Curumo, I insist. I can make another, if I desire to do so. But this one - this one suits you, with the yellow gems. Keep it. Please.”

It was the first piece of any kind Mairon had given to him, though in that moment, he felt as though no other choice would have given the proper outcome. _Too_ much had changed.

Curumo’s mouth opened and closed again as he sought for something to say, and Mairon lowered his gaze to take some of the pressure of a response away. “You’re welcome,” he said with a little grin. “And please do not be quite so overwhelmed, the choice of colors truly does suit you very well; you’ll see as much when you look in a mirror. I will find you in the courtyard in just a few minutes.”

The expression of joy blossomed over Curumo’s face once more with the reminder, and he beamed at Mairon from across the room. “Yes, yes, I will see you very soon for those marvelous firecrackers.” He took a step back and touched his hair with a hint of wonder. “Thank you.”

Before Mairon could respond, he had turned and fled from the hall, glittering as he went.


End file.
